Taming Angelina (The Temptation Saga 4)
Jefferson’s eyes didn’t waver. They were hard eyes. Eyes that had been to prison. Eyes that had seen things Angie couldn’t fathom. For a millisecond, a fraction of sorrow for him tugged at her—until she remembered why he was here.
To steal everything she had. Or never had.
He spoke, his voice terse. “Nothing you can do about it, Mia. Sorry.”
Harper glanced through the rest of the document, his brown eyes misting. He feels bad for me. He wants to help me.
“Ah-ha!”
“What, did you find something?” Maria’s voice shook with a dash of hope.
“There’s reference to a codicil here,” Harper said, nodding to Jeff. “Did you bother to read that?”
“What codicil? I didn’t find any codicil.”
“We need to search this office,” Harper said. “Dad kept all his important papers in these files.” He walked to an oak filing cabinet and starting opening drawers and shuffling through documents.
He pulled out a file folder. “Here’s the will. I guess Dad never bothered to read it.” He pushed it aside and pulled out another document. “And here’s the codicil, dated the same date as the will and signed and notarized.” He scanned the document. His lips curved upward in a caustic grin and he waved the document in Jefferson’s face. “Don’t get too comfortable with the idea of property ownership, Uncle Jeff. Angie has two months from the date of Dad’s death to marry. If she does, she still inherits.”
“What?” Jefferson grabbed the codicil. “That can’t be.”
“Read it yourself.”
“Damn it! I want a lawyer to look at this.”
“I am a lawyer. You can take it to Denver and have some expensive downtown attorney look at it and tell you the same thing if you want. But I have the same education they do.”
“You’re a ranch lawyer.”
“I’m a rancher with a legal education and a license to practice law in this state, the state where that document was written, signed, and notarized. It doesn’t take a classy downtown office to read a will and codicil. It takes one year of law school. I have three.”
“Well, then,” Maria said, her body limp, “we’ll just have to find Angie a husband. Shouldn’t be too difficult. She’s a beautiful girl.”
Angie sat, numb. “Sure, just put me up on the auction block. Marry Angelina Bay and inherit half a ranch.”
How had her life come to this?
“Angie, there are a hundred men in town who’d love to marry you,” her mother said, her voice now louder, a little calmer.
But she didn’t want a hundred men. She wanted just one man. And damn it, she didn’t want a marriage like her parents’. She wanted love.
Ice settled in her arms, and her head swam with visions of wills and codicils and horrible long lost uncles. What would she do?
* * *
Angie wasn’t exactly sure how she got home to change into riding clothes, how she got to Belle’s stall. As she groomed the sleek ebony coat, her mind wandered to the days when she was a little girl, the days spent with her doting daddy. Riding in front of him in the saddle across the expanse of their property on the western slope. The sweet aroma of the peach trees in bloom in the springtime, and the rocky terrain of the vineyards in summer. And the cattle of course, not as sweet smelling, but the pride of Daddy’s ranch. Best beef on the western slope, rivaled in Colorado only by the McCrays here on this side of the Rockies.
When Mama had inherited the ranch here, they named it Cha Cha, for Caitlyn, Harper, and Angelina. A ridiculous name, Angie always thought, but indicative of how much she and her siblings meant to their parents. They’d decided to move here so they’d be closer to the big city of Denver where she and Harper could have better schooling. Catie hadn’t yet been a year old, and she didn’t remember ever living on the western slope.
But Angie did. She’d loved it there. Loved the fresh peaches and apples every fall, the acres upon acres of fresh green orchards. She’d had a pony named Lucas who Daddy had helped her learn to ride. Course Belle was far more beautiful and valuable than Lucas. Why had she stopped riding?
Why had she stopped doing a lot of things?
The urge to ride with the wind hit her like the gush of a storm. Catie always rode when she needed to escape. She said riding was better than shopping any day.
Oh Lord, do I need an escape right now.
She saddled Belle and led her out of the stable. So she didn’t have her helmet. No matter. Riding would come back to her. And she’d had a few lessons. She could click her tongue and get Belle to walk. No problem.